Conversation
by Harriet Vane
Summary: An imagining of the scene that starts at the very end of "Subject 9" - the first conversation between Peter and Olivia after he comes back into existence.


_This is a write-up of the scene that starts at the very end of "Subject 9" - the first conversation between Peter and Olivia after he comes back into existence. I realize that it may be totally contradicted by tonight's episode of Fringe, but I'm willing to bet even money that the show decided to skip ahead a little. We'll all see._

_Natrually, Fringe and all it's characters belong to Fox._

_Finally, my thanks to My Beautiful Ending for her beta read._

_Enjoy._

**Conversation**

Peter's mouth suddenly went dry. She looked scared, and cautious. He'd seen that look before and she usually followed it by drawing her gun. He'd expected her to run into his arms. He'd expected her to kiss him. He'd expected her to say "Oh, Thank God you're all right. We've been trying everything to find you – what happened?"

But she didn't.

She said "Who are you?"

"Peter," he replied eventually, once the shock of the question wore off and he realized she genuinely expected an answer. "I'm Peter. Olivia . . . how can you . . ."

"How do you know my name?" Olivia said. She was starting to look less like she was going to shoot him and more like she was going to attack him, push him against the wall, maybe even punch him. "How did you project yourself?"

"Project myself?"

"Why?" Olivia demanded. "Why are you stalking me? Why did you invade my dreams and terrorize my coworkers?"

"Terrorize," Peter said, totally flabbergasted. He had no idea what was going on, and he was starting to realize that her version of reality was not going to mesh with his. "Olivia, I love you. I would never . . ."

"You don't know me," Olivia said angrily. "How did you do it?"

"I don't know," Peter replied, feeling defensive and afraid and heartbroken. "I love you, Olivia. I changed time to save you. I bent the universe to bring you back to me, and I guess I broke it. Because you don't know me and I . . . I don't have any answers."

"You can astral project ," Olivia said, apparently trying to force him to acknowledge the facts as she saw them. "You projected yourself into my dreams and you sent your image into the lab where my colleague was working – you called out his name."

"Do you mean Walter?" Peter asked as he tried to swallow his disappointment and expectations. He'd been found naked in a lake; she had the gun, the badge, the power. He had to accommodate himself to her reality. Even if the situation had been reversed, he loved her enough to give her anything she asked for. "Yeah, I might have done that."

"What do you mean you might have done that? And how do you know Walter?"

"I know Walter because he's my father," Peter said, unable to hide his surprise at her inexplicable ignorance. "How can you _not_ know that?"

"So, you claim to be Peter Bishop?" Olivia asked incredulously.

"I am Peter Bishop," Peter insisted.

"Peter Bishop is dead," Olivia insisted.

"Well, yeah, the Peter from this side died," Peter insisted. "But Walter, my father, he took me from the other side . . . Olivia, how come you don't know this?"

"I do know this story," Olivia said. "Walter Bishop took the Peter Bishop from the other side in hopes to cure him, but they fell in an icy lake and the boy drowned."

"We fell in Reiden Lake," Peter said.

"Are you saying you didn't really drown? You've just, what, been living under the water for the past twenty-five years?"

"We fell in the water and an observer saved us," Peter insisted.

"How do you know about the observers?" Olivia demanded.

"I'm telling you," Peter said. "I'm telling you everything, even though you shouldn't have to be told. When I was young, and dying, Walter crossed over and kidnapped me. He took me here, to this universe, and as soon as we got here we fell in the lake. But the observer saved us, pulled us out, and I didn't drown. I lived."

"Peter Bishop from the other universe died," Olivia insisted. "And our Walter Bishop went insane."

"I lived," Peter said. "And I grew up . . . but my father still went insane. And a couple of years ago, you hunted me down and asked me to check him out of St. Clair's mental institution so he could help with your investigations. We worked together, you and I, and . . ."

"We fell in love?" Olivia asked with a skeptical laugh.

"I love you," Peter answered her. "But, that's just the beginning of the story."

"Well, then, what's the end?"

"The Machine on Liberty Island," Peter started.

"That Machine's very existence is classified," Olivia said. "How do you know . . ."

"It was made for me."

"We don't know what it was made for," Olivia said.

"But it's drawing the two universes together, right?" Peter asked, half to demonstrate that he knew all that there was to know about the machine, half to reassure himself that his plan worked.

"It seems to be," Olivia told him.

"How did you get it to activate?"

"It activated by itself," Olivia said.

"Did it now?" Peter asked. "Because this is what I remember. You opened it, I got in it, and I activated it. Then I destroyed the other universe."

"The other universe is very much alive," Olivia said.

"I know, because we still haven't reached the end of the story," Peter said. "I thought I was saving us by killing them, but that didn't happen. Once the other universe was gone, ours started unraveling as well. We're in this together – either we both survive, or no one survives. I lived, we lived, with what we had done for years. We played clean up, trying to stop the universe from collapsing in one place, only to have a black hole open someplace else. It was awful, but it was beautiful, because you were there beside me. We got married. We were happy."

"You're saying we were married."

"It feels odd," Peter said, absentmindedly touching his left ring finger with his thumb. "To think that we're not."

"You said you changed time," Olivia said, sounding less skeptical than she had. "You erased the marriage."

"You were murdered," Peter said. "You died and I . . . I couldn't . . . . Walter told me it could all be avoided. Walter said . . . he said that all I had to do was make a different choice. I told him that it was impossible, the past was the past. But he said the past was present and if I made a different choice I could take us back, I could take us all back. He said there would be consequences . . . but we were so hopeless. What could possibly have been worse?"

"So, you just decided to not have lived those past what, five years?"

"Ten," Peter said.

"And they were erased?"

"Instead of destroying the other universe, I made Liberty Island a weak point. I brought the two sides together. But, I think I know now what the consequences were. "

"And what are they?"

"You don't know me," Peter said. "My wife . . . I mean, I know, even if you knew me we still wouldn't be married yet but . . . I can't help but . . ."

"Look," Olivia said crisply. "It's very flattering to be the heroine of such a romantic story, but let's look at the facts. Peter Bishop, both of them, died at age eight. You cannot be him."

"Give me a DNA test," Peter said. "I know who I am."

"Maybe," Olivia said. She looked startled by his desire to prove, conclusively, what she saw as his impossible claims. "Even if your story is partially true, you still have not explained how you appeared in my dreams, and to Walter, and in the ball of electromagnetic energy."

"I can't explain those things," Peter said honestly. "I don't know. But I do know I wanted to be here – with you. The time—and I know there must have been time —between when the machine brought the universes together and I appeared in the lake, it's all dark, hazy. But, I think . . . if you think you saw me, maybe you did. If Walter thinks I was calling to him, I probably was. I think I must have been reaching out for you, and maybe part of you was looking for me. I don't know, but if we can talk to Walter, he might have . . ."

"You are not going to see Walter Bishop," Olivia said curtly. "Not until we find out what really happened."

"I told you what happened," Peter said. "I understand your skepticism, but, please, Olivia . . ."

"And while we're performing this investigation," Olivia continued coolly, "I want to make something clear. I am not your wife. Walter Bishop is not your father. Astrid Farnsworth, Phillip Boyles, Nina Sharp – none of them know you. You are not part of our team. As far as I can see, you are a deeply disturbed individual who's gotten his hands on classified information and has used that information, along with unexplainable psychic abilities, to terrorize this team. We will prove it, and we will keep it from happening again."

"You're the best judge of character I've ever known," Peter told her. "Look me in the eyes, listen to my voice – you have to believe I love you. I would never hurt you."

Olivia did look him in the eyes, and he looked back. He realized, with deep sadness, that the woman he was looking at wasn't quite the woman he'd known. There was a coldness in her gaze, a coldness formed of pain, or fear, or loneliness, or all three. He knew, looking into those green orbs, that she really didn't know him, that she really never had. But, somehow, her coldness made him love her all the more. She was Olivia, his own Olivia, but she was hurt, and scared, and lonely. He knew he had to do everything in his power to change that. Whether she ever loved him again or not, he was still duty bound as a man who had been her husband, to comfort and protect her.

"This interview is over," Olivia said sharply, pulling her eyes away from his. He continued to gaze at her, but she kept her focus away from his face. "I expect you'll be kept in custody until we get to the bottom of this."

She turned around and walked quickly to the door. "I don't mind," Peter told her retreating form. "You and Walter are everything to me. Without you, my life is nothing."


End file.
